


To Hold The Light In Your Hands

by thegrimshapeofyoursmile



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Road Trip, Yearning, so much yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile
Summary: Kenny packs his bags the evening before they move on to their next location and Adam pretends that he isn’t watching him. They sleep, and Adam pretends that he isn’t listening to Kenny’s deep breaths in the darkness. They leave, and Adam pretends that he doesn’t want to stay.
Relationships: Kenny Omega/Adam Page
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	To Hold The Light In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I broke down and wrote wrestling fanfic. This is my life now, I suppose. The entire AEW storyline about Hangman and Kenny is just too much. Have some emotional support fanfic.
> 
> [Here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2MkrYN14tbLhQ3xZ0OMbgX?si=3BDB227DSpCtz2LJCso5wg) is the playlist I heard while writing.

By the time Adam stumbles out of the shower and starts to throw his stuff haphazardly into his suitcase on the mornings of their departure, Kenny is already checking the hotel room for anything they might have missed. It is routine by now. Adam doesn’t dare call it comforting because he doesn’t want to take it for granted, but really it is quite comforting. It’s always this: They check in. Adam manages to strew his clothes all over the hotel room in a matter of mere hours. They eat. They watch something together. Rinse and repeat for all the days of their stay, with few variations in between. Kenny packs his bags the evening before they move on to their next location and Adam pretends that he isn’t watching him. They sleep, and Adam pretends that he isn’t listening to Kenny’s deep breaths in the darkness. They leave, and Adam pretends that he doesn’t want to stay.

Usually, his feeling of reluctance disappears the moment they climb into their car and it’s just the two of them. Kenny always takes the first shift of driving; Adam is very much not a morning person and Kenny gets tired in the afternoon, so that works out quite well for them. He could take a nap, by this point it’s almost part of their ritual that Kenny offers him to do so, but he prefers sipping on a cup of coffee while he watches Kenny fuss with the stereo. His tag partner, although he would never tell him that, has an atrocious taste of music: video game soundtracks, Japanese songs where Kenny tends to belt out the lyrics with startling accuracy, pop songs with heavy beats that are actually the most acceptable of the eclectic mix, and a lot of 80’s music that Adam will never admit he likes, too. At some point Kenny found out that Adam has a profound knowledge of Britney Spears’s entire discography and now he thinks that it is the funniest thing on the planet. Adam is never drunk enough to get over his embarrassment and awkwardness in the mornings, but occasionally Kenny gets him to sing along to “Toxic” in a high-pitched voice in the evenings. It’s really not fair, but it might be worth seeing Kenny’s utterly delighted grin. 

Kenny wordlessly extends a hand towards him and Adam only realises that he instinctively knew what Kenny wanted when he has already given him his sunglasses. They are on the highway by then, the sun high in a clear, blue sky that opens up to a vastness in a way it only does in these parts of America. Kenny looks different in shades and fingerless leather gloves; a little sharper, maybe, a little darker. Adam doesn’t entirely like it, but he has found that there is freedom in people who let you be yourself no matter how often you have to change. And he cannot give Kenny much, but he can give him that. He knows that Kenny can be ruthless, but he doesn’t think he enjoys it very much. Adam enjoys him more like this, too: Quietly happy, and glowing so bright that Adam sometimes only drinks one beer too many to be able to close his eyes against the brightness. 

“How long’re we gonna take?” he asks.

Kenny hums and reaches for the stereo. His eyes are unreadable behind the sunglasses. “Four to five hours, I guess. We should make good progress. I wanna check out the gym after we arrive. You with me?”

“Sure,” Adam says and settles a little more into the front seat. The sun is blinding. He closes his eyes, sips his coffee and listens to Kenny as he hums along a song of The Cure. There are worse days, he thinks. There are definitely worse days.

II.

Adam has always liked the way Las Vegas holds itself against the desert. It’s a city that should not be possible, an ocean of lights and life surrounded by sand and wind in one of the most unpleasant regions of the country. And yet it’s there, thriving, glittering, moving on. Las Vegas makes or breaks people. It’s the city of luck, but luck is a fickle mistress that can be easily lost.

Adam has never been overly lucky. Or maybe it’s just that he thinks that luck and happiness are very frail things that can easily break. He feels that way now, too. There is always a voice in his head that tells him that this happiness is not meant to last. It simply can’t; it never has before, after all, and even though Kenny has never said anything but encouraging words, Adam can feel how he is still dragging behind in every possible aspect. Kenny has always been one of the best in their profession and even now he seems larger than life in so many ways that Adam sometimes feels like useless weight around his ankles that only keeps him back. The only thing he’s always excelled at is doubting himself. 

It’s just that he is so hungry. That’s probably the worst of it: that he always wants more than what he has already been given. That he still wants to climb higher, defend their spot on the top with tooth and nail if necessary. That he wants to see more, be more, that he wants to hold the light in his hands. Sometimes he thinks he can do it, sometimes he knows he can’t. It doesn’t matter, either way: Hunger propels him forward, always, and hunger is the reason why he doesn’t let go of Kenny, too. Sometimes he looks at him and his teeth ache. Sometimes he listens to him and thinks that this is how it must feel to be burned alive. He watches Kenny talk to others and wants to hold him down, bury his hands in his chest and close them around his heart until he knows Kenny in a way nobody else knows him. On some days he doesn’t even care that Kenny has lived and loved before. It’s those days where he thinks he could make him happy, and he does think so right now, too. Maybe it’s because of the pride he felt when Kenny laughed about one of his jokes today, or maybe it’s because of Kenny insisting that he tagged along to dinner with the Young Bucks. 

Or maybe it’s just the lights of Las Vegas. 

Or it is the way Kenny looks at him when he steps closer in the confines of their hotel room after dinner, gestures towards his shoulder and says, “Lemme patch you up. You’re holding yourself stiff today.”

“It’s nothing,” Kenny says, but he doesn’t particularly protest. Adam sits him down on the edge of his bed and watches him struggle his shirt for a moment before he simply takes matters in his own hand and helps him pull it over his head as gently as possible. Kenny winces a little and smiles a bit sheepishly when Adam lifts his eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, maybe that‘s a good idea.“

“I have those occasionally,“ Adam says. He gets Kenny‘s painkillers and a heat patch, hands him the former and carefully puts the latter on his exposed shoulder where he knows is the center of Kenny‘s pain. “Take your meds, old man. Here, wait a moment ...“

He can see Kenny dutifully swallow one of his pills with half a bottle of water while he fluffs up his pillow and adds the one from his own bed until Kenny can comfortably sink back into them and still have a good view of the tv. Adam huffs, secretly quite pleased with himself, and slightly turns towards Kenny to tell him to lie the fuck down, only to find the man already watching him. There is an odd look on Kenny‘s face, one that Adam has never seen before and makes him feel as if they were on the brink of something big.

“There,“ he says a little roughly before the awkwardness makes him swallow his tongue again. “Lie the fuck down and take a break for today.“

“Thank you, Adam,“ Kenny says, his voice very soft.

“Oh, shit,“ Adam says because sometimes there is just no connection between his brain and his mouth, and because Kenny called him Adam while looking at him like that. He can feel his cheeks grow warm and wonders whether he will ever be able to drink enough to not feel this awkward anymore. He stands there, frozen like an idiot, until Kenny simply clasps his arm and uses it to move himself into a somewhat comfortable position on the bed.

“C‘me here,“ he says and his voice is still too soft to handle, so Adam gapes a little more just to make sure that Kenny is fully aware of how much of an idiot he is. However, Kenny seems to be a special brand of dumbass, too, because he only grins and pats the space beside him. “Got your pillow, now you gotta chill right next to me. My turn to choose what we‘re watching, by the way.“

“I‘ll - sure,“ Adam says like the eloquent master of words he is and sits down maybe a little too forcefully. But he sits there, and while Kenny zaps through the channels he eventually even manages to relax enough to fully settle next to him. The bed is not exactly spacious, so Adam is keenly aware of the way Kenny‘s thigh, hips, arm and shoulder presses against his. He breathes in, and his nose is full of Kenny‘s scent. He stares right ahead, and yet in the corner of his eye he can see Kenny‘s curls. 

Jesus, he thinks with sudden clarity, I think I might fall in love with him.

III.

Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. After Vegas, they are on the road again and Adam tries his damnedest to pretend that nothing has changed. They are on the road, and he hands Kenny his shades to protect him from the sun before he asks for them. They are in the ring, and sometimes when Adam doesn’t think they move as one. They are in a hotel room, and Adam listens to Kenny‘s slow, even breaths in the darkness and just knows. Rinse and repeat. When all is quiet he prays to a God he doesn‘t believe in that it will stay that way forever.

There is a break in between when the car makes funky noises, somewhere on the highway between night and day. Kenny opens the hood with quite a bit of motivation, then Adam spends several incredibly amusing minutes simply watching him stare helplessly at what lies underneath. Kenny is many things, but a mechanic he is not. So Adam finally relents and gently pushes him away with his hips before he leans over the hood himself. He knows a thing or two about cars and quickly figures out what‘s wrong. It‘s a little tricky because he doesn‘t have all the necessary tools at hand, but he makes do with what‘s there. 

When he is done, he pushes his hair out of his face - there is motor oil on his hands, but what can he do? - and sighs. “That should do it. We should probably get that checked at a workshop when we‘ll get the chance.“

“You‘re amazing,“ Kenny says and sounds so earnest that Adam cannot help but flush with embarrassment. The sun is so low by now that it is merely a sliver above the horizon. There is just enough light to illuminate Kenny‘s outlines. Adam can‘t see much of his face, even less his eyes, but he thinks that there is a smile grazing the corners of his lips. “Whenever I think I‘ve seen all of you, you show me something new.“

“It‘s nothing,“ Adam murmurs and rubs the back of his neck before he can think better. His chest is tight with feelings that make everything more complicated. He wants to bask in Kenny‘s compliment and hear more of where that came from. He wants to duck away and pretend he‘s never said anything.

“Shut up, Adam,“ Kenny says, and there is something almost angry in his voice, the hint of barely restrained frustration, but Adam can‘t ask what‘s wrong because next he knows there are Kenny‘s hands tangled in his hair. Kenny almost brutally knocks their foreheads together and Adam breathes out in a rush. He doesn‘t think when he twists his dirty hands into Kenny‘s shirt and draws him closer, just closes his eyes. Merely a sliver of horizon and air between them, they are that close.

“I wish you would see yourself the way I see you,“ Kenny whispers into the narrow space between them like a secret. He says it so quietly, it‘s not much more than a breath, but still Adam sways under the force of it, too stunned to move. “I wish …“

He doesn‘t finish his sentence, and in a way Adam is glad. He doesn‘t think he can live up to Kenny Omega‘s expectations. But maybe that‘s alright. There are a few things he can bring on the table and maybe that will be enough. So he smiles, and Kenny holds so very still when Adam gently strokes his cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs until he thinks he might be able to feel Kenny‘s bones in his bones, Kenny‘s blood in his blood, and he thinks that Kenny might like that, too. Suddenly, in this very narrow, quiet space between them, it doesn‘t seem that hard or dangerous to simply tell him, so he just does. 

“I just like you so much,“ he says. 

Kenny breathes out, as if a great weight has lifted from his shoulders. It‘s such a tiny step to kissing him, and Adam doesn‘t only see it happen before his inner eye, he just does it, it‘s that easy. They kiss, slow and steady on that highway in the middle of nowhere, and Kenny is so close that Adam doesn‘t quite know where his heartbeat starts and where his own ends. He thinks he might be quite alright with that. 

He thinks that this might become routine, too, and finds that he might not need much else from life to be happy.


End file.
